Consequences
by keeptheotherone
Summary: Prequel to "Auror Take Two." As Auror trainees, Harry and Ron made a rookie mistake with far-reaching consequences. Twenty years later, as Heads of the Auror Department and the Auror Academy, can they remedy it before those consequences impact their families?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a sequel of sorts to ″Sharing Life Together.″ I've wanted to write something suspenseful for a long time, and it hit me one day that I could tie these two stories together using the same Auror case I wrote about previously (since I left it unresolved). Each story stands alone, although of course I would be delighted if you read them both :)

Random story-world notes: Harry is Head of the Aurors. Ron is Head of the Auror Academy. Ginny is a Quidditch reporter for the _Daily Prophet. _Her current assignment is to cover the tryouts for England's national Quidditch team. (No, I did not do the math to determine if a Quidditch World Cup is held in 2022. The date of the story was determined by James's age, so I don't really care.) I'm using _mediwitch_ as a magical translation for _nurse_ and _healer_ for _physician_. There is a high-security wing at St. Mungo's Hospital that's dedicated to Aurors who get sick or injured in the line of duty. Despite the blip in chapter thirty-six of _Deathly Hallows_, Yaxley and Dolohov did not die at the Battle of Hogwarts (remember Dolohov is the wizard who nearly killed Hermione at the Department of Mysteries). I consider Ginny to be Teddy's informal godmother, much the same way that the woman who marries your uncle becomes your aunt even though she's not actually related to you (and may not be the person your parents would have chosen ;) ). In other fics, I've used _freshman, junior, senior_ to describe the three years of Auror Academy training, but I decided to change that to _first year, second year, _and _third year. _Don't worry, I'm not sending them back to Hogwarts :) Finally, in case my version of post-Hogwarts differs from yours, please remember none of us really knows what would happen.

For those of you who read ″Hidden Chambers and Unseen Monsters,″ my fifteen-chapter missing moment about the Weasleys' visit to Egypt after _Chamber of Secrets_ that I'm immensely proud of and will shamelessly self-promote, the tentative trilogy has turned into a five-chapter introduction plus a really long one-shot (so far). Thanks to my beta **vancabreuniter**, who said, ″It's really good. Keep writing″ when I fretted about a twenty-three page ″prologue″ that was still incomplete. I will update at least once a week. Warning: in the middle of renovations and moving. Hint: reviews are motivating ;)

Disclaimer: All characters and assorted other magic are the property of _Harry Potter _author J. K. Rowling.

* * *

_March 2022_

_Auror Headquarters, Ministry of Magic, London_

Harry Potter used his wand to open the doors into the Auror training rooms and waited for the flashes of wand light visible through the open doorway to stop. After several seconds, he strode across the large open room of working trainees and barged into Ron's office without knocking.

"We've got a lead on Dolohov."

Ron dropped the parchment in his hand and stood up. "What? Where?"

"One of Matthews's informants spotted him in St. Mungo's this morning.″

Ron moved from behind his desk, then stopped. ″How do you want to handle it?″

″Well, we're not Apparating straight to St. Mungo's,″ Harry said dryly.

More than twenty years ago, when he and Ron had still been Auror trainees, they had intercepted intelligence indicating some remaining Death Eaters were in hiding at Malfoy Manor while it was held by the Ministry during the Malfoy investigation. With the intelligence already a day old and the Malfoy family approved to reclaim possession of their home, Harry and Ron had immediately Apparated to the former Voldemort stronghold. Without backup or proper reconnaissance, they had been unable to make a stealthy approach and were overpowered. Five of the Death Eaters who escaped that day were captured by the Auror Department over the following months, but Yaxley and Dolohov remained at large.

″Who's the informant?″

″Matthews won't say, but he says its information is solid.″

″ 'Its'?″

Harry shifted a stack of application packets from a chair to the floor and sat down. ″I think she's female. Maybe a mediwitch.″

Ron resumed his seat. ″Makes sense. You believe him?″

Harry shrugged. ″No reason not to.″

Matthews's reputation for well-placed, accurate informants preceded Harry and Ron's employment.

″What's Dolohov's condition? Can he be interrogated?″

″Dunno. Don't care, really.″ As the more prominent of the two, Harry had taken most of the heat for the screwup, both within and outside the department. Not to mention it had triggered one of the first significant fights in his and Ginny's relationship. Dolohov and Yaxley were the only two known Death Eaters not in Azkaban or confirmed dead, and as far as Harry was concerned, either location was equally desirable.

″If we're going after him, the charges have to stick. Can we make a case for Veritaserum?″ Ron asked.

Harry grimaced. ″I'm worried about the 'imminent danger' part.″

There were three criteria for the use of truth potion by law enforcement: the accused was charged with a violent crime punishable by life imprisonment, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had failed to ascertain the relevant information through routine procedure, and there was probable cause the accused presented an imminent danger to the public.

″Do you want to try to interrogate him first?″

Harry shook his head. ″I don't want to tip him off while he's in hospital. He's successfully hidden himself for over two decades. If we go in there with twenty questions about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, he may try to escape and injure staff or patients in the process. We have to do this right the first time, Ron.″

Ron tipped his chair back, his favorite thinking position. ″Did the informant say where in St. Mungo's?″

″Second floor. Apparently, he has an ordinary case of scrofungulus.″

″I don't like the idea of confronting him where he has a ready supply of hostages,″ Ron said, frowning. ″For all we know, we won't be able to use Veritaserum because it will react with his other potions. Let's find out how sick he is first. Then we can determine whether or not we can bring him back here for interrogation and if we can use the truth potion.″

″You or I will draw too much attention. Matthews?″

″And Connelly. Neither of them look particularly threatening. Did Dolohov come in with anyone else?″

″I don't know,″ Harry admitted. The fiasco at Malfoy Manor taught him to listen to Ron, who had wanted to take another team with them and had opposed Harry's idea of splitting up. Harry stayed silent, giving his longtime friend and partner time to strategize.

″Okay, here's what I would do. Send Matthews and Connelly to St. Mungo's in street robes. Tell them it's purely reconnaissance, that they are not to engage or confront Dolohov in any way. He's not to know they're even there. If he's able to be moved, we'll ask the Healers to sedate him before we arrive, and we'll bring him back here. See if one of the mediwitches from the Auror Wing will do it since they already have security clearance. If it won't interfere with his other potions, we'll question him under Veritaserum with the understanding that just his existence is an imminent threat. If he can't be moved, we'll evacuate the other patients, strengthen the security wards, and handle the interrogation in hospital. All that's assuming he's alone, of course.″

Harry opened his mouth and Ron scowled. ″I suppose you want me to actually write that up.″

″Yes,″ Harry said. ″And be thinking about who else goes to St. Mungo's with us, and what to do if he's not alone. I'll notify Matthews and Connelly.″

()()()()

It was their lucky day. Dolohov was alone, the Healers approved the use of Veritaserum, the sedative was administered, and the capture went like clockwork. Harry almost wished they had taken some trainees with them; it would have been a great demonstration of how procedure was designed to work.

Dolohov dozed in interrogation four, the very room in which Robards, Head Auror at the time, had placed Harry, Ron, and Hermione when she had shown up screaming in Robards's office after learning Ron and Harry had gone to Malfoy Manor alone.

Harry leaned towards Ron, who was watching Dolohov through the magically-reinforced glass. ″Think we should get Hermione in there, for old times' sake?″

″Actually, she would be going spare in your office about now.″

Harry groaned. The idea was not appealing, and he returned his attention to the interrogation room. Dolohov was still asleep, chained to table and chair (with a Sticking Spell on his bum for good measure) and accompanied by a mediwitch. She had set up a series of monitoring charms that reflected on the blank white wall opposite and seemed completely unconcerned with being shut in with a high-security prisoner. It made Harry wonder what all she had seen, and what exactly was in that potion.

He sighed. ″We'll have to tell them.″ It wasn't a question. Ginny and Hermione understood there were aspects of their husbands' jobs that they couldn't talk about, but neither witch would forgive being left out of a Death Eater capture.

″I know. You owled Ginny yet?″

Harry swore and Ron laughed.

″Louise!″ Harry bellowed, and his assistant appeared from the open office behind him.

″I'm right here, Mr. Potter, there's no need to yell.″

″Send a note to Ginny, please, and tell her I won't be home for dinner. In fact, tell her I'll be quite late and not to wait up.″

Louise disappeared with her usual efficiency.

″Cheers.″

Ron shrugged. ″I don't like you sleeping on my sofa any more than you do.″

″How long is that sedative supposed to last?″

″I don't know, but once he wakes up, we won't be leaving for a while. Fancy a snack?″

Harry didn't turn towards the door. ″Bring me a sandwich,″ he said, Summoning a chair from a nearby cubicle. ″I'll wait.″

()()()()

Dolohov's sedative had finally worn off. After a stern conversation about what was and was not considered an emergency (″only if he's going to die in the next sixty seconds″), Harry convinced the mediwitch to monitor Dolohov's condition from outside the interrogation room, leaving him and Ron alone with the Death Eater. It was quitting time, but nearly the entire department was still present, gathered round the three glass walls of the interrogation chamber, able to see and hear the proceedings but invisible to the wizards inside. Ron occasionally participated in an interview during training, but it had been years since they'd had a high-profile suspect worthy of Harry's personal attention. There were entire ranks of Aurors who had never seen Harry Potter and Ron Weasley work a suspect, and the excitement in the squad room was palpable.

Harry paced back and forth in front of the table where Ron lounged casually, chair tipped back, his body open, turned at an angle to the leering Dolohov, still in chains.

″Can I get you anything?″ Ron said as Harry continued to pace, face blank, eyes intent on his target. ″Water or tea? Maybe a butterbeer?″

″You're not my friend,″ Dolohov said. ″I don't want anything from you.″

″No, we're not friends,″ Ron agreed. ″The last time I saw you, you were trying to kill me. And the time before that.″

″I've never seen you before.″

″Oh, but you have,″ Ron said, his voice still even, but now with an unmistakeable undertone of danger. ″Almost twenty-three years ago, at Malfoy Manor. Two years before that, in a café on Tottenham Court Road. And let's not forget the incident in the Department of Mysteries.″

Ron waved his hand at Harry, still silent and pacing behind him. Harry took out his wand and began tapping it against his thigh.

Dolohov's eyes flickered ever-so-slightly, but his expression didn't change. ″Prove it.″

″We don't have to prove it,″ Ron said. ″No one will question the testimony of the two highest-ranking members of the Auror Department.″

Dolohov's eyes shifted to Harry, and Ron pressed his advantage. ″Hadn't you heard? Harry is Head Auror. For more than a decade now. Where's the rock you've been hiding under, eh?″

Dolohov stared, stoney-faced, at his reflection in the glass wall.

″Oh, go on. The department's collecting bets. The Australian Outback is a popular theory, but my money's on Africa. No? India? South America? Bali?″ Ron drummed his fingers on the table, appearing as relaxed as if he were predicting Quidditch matches with his brothers. ″That's okay, you don't have to tell me. Where's Yaxley?″

Startled by the abrupt change of subject, Dolohov's attention returned to Ron, who smiled coldly. Still Harry paced, turning ninety degrees and walking out of Dolohov's line of sight before moving back into his peripheral vision.

″See, I think I am your friend, Dolohov,″ Ron said in the same bland tone. ″Harry here would just as soon kill you as look at you—″ Harry substantiated this by pausing to deliver a cold stare— ″but I think you can be useful. A confession of your crimes during the Second Wizarding War, a solid lead on Yaxley, and we'll let you live out the rest of your sorry life in Azkaban. What do you say?″

″Go to hell.″

Ron was unperturbed. ″He doesn't like the idea, Harry.″

Harry slipped a vial of clear, colorless liquid out of his robe pocket and passed it to Ron before resuming his pacing to Dolohov's left, being sure to stay out of his sight a little longer with every pass. Despite his apparent bravado, the Death Eater was getting nervous. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his shoulders twitched whenever Harry was behind him. Harry smiled to himself. He had forgotten how much fun this was.

Ron turned the vial in his fingers, making a clink when the glass bottom tapped the table and a soft thud when the cork stopper made contact. Clink, thud. Clink, thud. Clink, thud. Harry continued pacing, tapping his wand to the beat. Ron hummed tunelessly, still balancing his chair on two legs. The muscle in Dolohov's jaw began to tick.

Ron must have noticed it too because he said, ″Last chance, Dolohov.″

Harry was just getting ready to leave the room, let Dolohov stew for a while, when the wizard spoke in a voice so arrogant and smug it sent chills down Harry's spine.

″You should tell your wife to close the shades when she's in her study at night,″ Dolohov said to Ron. ″That glass lamp shines right through her blue nightdress.″

Harry turned at the word _wife_, heard Ron's chair land on all fours with a deafening _bang!, _saw the tiny vial fall off the end of the table, felt the crunch of glass under his feet. Dolohov was already turning purple from Ron's grip at his throat.

″Ron, let go!″

But Ron was incandescent with rage, sputtering incoherently, choking Dolohov effortlessly with one large hand. The monitoring charms were flashing vivid rainbow colors on the wall. Harry could hear the scramble of Aurors at the door, but it would take them a couple of minutes to get through his extra layers of security. He braced one hand on Dolohov's chest, wrapped the other arm around Ron, and pulled, but Ron's reach was longer than his and simply dragged the Death Eater (and his chair) across the table. Harry pointed his wand at Ron's hand and cast a Stinging Hex, to no effect. He strengthened it until he knew it was painful, but Ron refused to let go. Dolohov's clawing hands slowed, stopped, dropped to his sides. Harry let go of them and prepared to stun Ron. He was _not_ going to arrest his best friend for murder, no matter how justifiable.


	2. Chapter 2

″_You should tell your wife to close the shades when she's in her study at night,″ Dolohov said to Ron. ″That glass lamp shines right through her blue nightdress.″_

_Harry turned at the word _wife_, heard Ron's chair land on all fours with a deafening _bang!_, saw the tiny vial fall off the end of the table, felt the crunch of glass under his feet. Dolohov was already turning purple from Ron's grip at his throat._

_Harry could hear the scramble of Aurors at the door, but it would take them a couple of minutes to get through his extra layers of security. He braced one hand on Dolohov's chest, wrapped the other arm around Ron, and pulled, but Ron's reach was longer than his and simply dragged the Death Eater (and his chair) across the table. Harry pointed his wand at Ron's hand and cast a Stinging Hex, to no effect. He strengthened it until he knew it was painful, but Ron refused to let go. Dolohov's clawing hands slowed, stopped, dropped to his sides. Harry let go of them and prepared to stun Ron. He was _not _going to arrest his best friend for murder, no matter how justifiable._

Then several things happened at once.

The door imploded, five of his senior Aurors charged in, someone stunned Ron, and the mediwitch elbowed her way through all of them, climbed on top of the table, and began to resuscitate her patient.

″Hermione,″ Harry gasped, remembering a streak of purple flame and his best friend crumpled unconscious on the floor. ″Somebody find Hermione, now! Shut down the whole Ministry if you have to. I want to lay eyes on her in the next five minutes!″ And if they had been watching Ron's house, they had been watching his. Harry's insides shriveled at the very thought. ″Ginny. Gin's at Exmoor for the national tryouts. And the kids—″

Harry took a deep breath even as he heard Clarke and Payne organizing teams in the squad room. ″Somebody get me Neville Longbottom by Floo. I want to know that my kids and Ron's are all okay.″ The wildly flashing monitor charms caught his eye. ″And get some backup for Megan,″ he added, jerking his thumb at the mediwitch, whose wand was a barely-visible blur. ″And more Veritaserum.″ There were still some people who were not moving. ″NOW!″

″Mr. Potter?″ Louise interrupted Harry's contemplation of whether it was safe to revive Ron. ″I have Professor Longbottom on the Floo in your office.″

Harry left Ron sprawled on the floor of the interrogation room and crossed the hall and the outer office into his private chambers. A familiar round face floated in the flames.

″Neville! Where are my kids?″

″At dinner, I expect. What's the matter?″

″When was the last time you saw them? And Rose and Hugo?″

Neville frowned in thought. ″James had Herbology this afternoon, and Lily and Hugo were in my double lesson this morning. I saw Rose and—er, I saw Rose coming up from the dungeons on my way back to my office, but I haven't seen Al since breakfast.″

Under the circumstances, Harry couldn't care less about who his goddaughter was sneaking around with. ″Find them, please. And as many other Weasley children as you can lay eyes on.″

″Do you want to speak with them?″

Harry shook his head. ″Not yet. Actually, just find James. He can locate the rest of them for you. Then Floo-call me back.″ James had the Marauder's Map.

Neville gave Harry a shrewd look but was interrupted.

″HARRY! HARRY JAMES POTTER—″

Harry had just enough time to say a hasty goodbye and stand up before Ron burst into his office.

″What the hell do you think you're doing, stunning me like that?″

″What the hell do you think you're doing, murdering a suspect?″ Harry wondered who had been foolish enough to _Rennervate _Ron before Hermione arrived.

″He threatened my wife,″ Ron growled, then as if remembering, demanded, ″Where's Hermione? Have you found her yet? How long was I out?″

″Clarke went after her. You told her you were working late, right? She will be too.″

Ron glanced at his watch but did not look reassured. ″Probably. What about Ginny?″

Harry forced down the sick wave of fear. How many others was Dolohov working with? ″She's at Exmoor. I don't know how many teams went after her. Payne was coordinating that, plus we already had two teams at the pitch for routine security. I just got off the Floo with Neville. He's going to check on the kids and get back to me. I take it Hermione does have a blue nightdress?″

Ron ran a hand through his hair. ″More than one. Blue is her favorite color. She always wears a dressing gown when the kids are home, but when it's just the two of us. . . .″

_Yes, quite_, Harry thought, well-acquainted with the advantages of an adults-only household. ″So, we can't use that to determine when they had you under observation.″

Ron shook his head. ″Just sometime after the Christmas holiday. Did you send for more Veritaserum?″

″Yes. Is Megan still busy with Dolohov?″

″And two others. She's going to be pissed off about the security charms.″

Harry winced. Megan MacDonald was one of the senior nurses on the Auror Wing, and she didn't take crap from anyone. Including Harry Potter.

″Ron? What's going on?″ Hermione stood in the doorway of Harry's office, a fat book in hand, one finger still marking her place.

″We need your help on something,″ Ron said quickly, shepherding her towards the conference table and sending Harry a look behind her back.

″Something that required six Aurors to escort me from the other side of the floor?″

″It's a very important question,″ Ron said as he and Harry took seats across from her. Unsurprisingly, Hermione did not look convinced.

″What if—″ Harry began.

″Hypothetically,″ Ron added, and Hermione frowned.

″What if the Auror Department received information on the location of a long-lost fugitive and wanted to question him or her with Veritaserum?″

Hermione's eyes narrowed. ″Is he or she accused of a violent crime punishable by life imprisonment?″

Both men nodded vigorously.

″You've failed to ascertain this information through routine procedure?″

″For tw—″

Harry kicked Ron in the ankle.

″For years,″ Ron said.

″Does this person possess information that would reduce imminent danger to the public?″

″What is imminent danger, exactly?″ Harry asked.

Where was Ginny? Forget Payne, the Aurors assigned to Exmoor should have found her already.

″Imminent danger is any condition or practice which could reasonably be expected to cause death or serious physical harm immediately or before the imminence of such danger can be eliminated.″

Harry blinked and refocused on the problem. ″Can a person's existence be an imminent danger? Like, say . . . Grindlewald?″

She crossed her arms. ″What aren't you two telling me?″

″Information which would prevent you from claiming plausible deniability,″ Ron said promptly. He was getting very good at lawyer-speak.

Hermione leveled a ″we'll discuss that later″ look at her husband and turned to Harry. ″Explain.″

″This person was last seen in the company of multiple criminals, some of whom were later captured.″

″But not all.″ Hermione's voice was flat and brusque, and Harry began to get a bad feeling.

″No. We think this person knows where the other criminals are, or at least he knows more than we do.″

″You've found Yaxley or Dolohov.″

Ron swore under his breath. Harry sighed. There were significant disadvantages to working with a genius.

″Ron. . . .″

″It's Dolohov.″

Hermione said nothing, just maintained an eagle-eye stare.

″Which is why,″ Ron said hastily, ″we want to use Veritaserum. Because he's an imminent danger to the public and could cause death and—other stuff.″

She still said nothing, and for the hundredth time, Harry cursed the day he and Ron had left her alone with the Official Auror Interrogation Manual (for all of five minutes, but still).

″If we were to question him under Veritaserum, would it hold up in front of the Wizengamot?″ Harry said.

Her stare shifted from Ron to Harry. He had rather less to lose than Ron did and stared right back.

″Where is he?″

″Irrelevant,″ Ron said.

Hermione's cold demeanor broke, and she jumped to her feet. ″The location of a wizard who has tried to murder all of us, more than once, is not irrelevant!″

″It's irrelevant to this decision,″ Ron retorted. ″Either the Veritaserum is legal or it's not. Or don't you know?″

For a terrifying moment, Harry thought Ron had gone too far, but Hermione was reaching for the book she had brought with her, not her handbag on top of it. Merlin only knew what weapons she had in that thing; she was still fond of Undetectable Extension Charms. The tattoo on Harry's upper arm tingled. He glanced at Ron, who gave him a brief nod. He felt it too. The Aurors had Ginny.

Hermione didn't look up from her book as the two men stepped into the outer office and closed the door behind them.

″Mr. Potter?″ Louise said. ″Professor Longbottom just Floo-called. He says every Potter and Weasley in the school is accounted for.″

″Thank you, Louise.″

″Safe house?″ Ron said.

Harry nodded. ″At least until we find out what's going on. Who's going to tell them?″

The two men eyed each other for a moment, then Ron pulled a galleon from his pocket.

Harry called it and groaned. ″Louise—″

″Which country, sir?″

Harry considered this. ″Scotland.″

″Two thirty-nine High Street, Hogsmeade,″ she said promptly.

″No way,″ Ron said. ″Hermione will go to Honeydukes.″

Harry didn't need Ron's raised eyebrows to remember the secret passage into Hogwarts. ″Maybe that's not such a bad idea.″ The protective charms on the castle were extensive.

″Yes, it is. It puts two prime targets square in the center of a thousand innocent children. Including ours.″

″Do you really think—″

″Do you want to risk it?″

Harry sighed. ″Pick something else, Louise.″

″Lairg. The block of row houses in the center of town, west side, second floor, round green roof.″

″Never heard of it,″ Ron said.

″We'll take it,″ Harry said.

()()()()

″How is he?″ Harry asked. Dolohov was laid out on the table, whether asleep or drugged, Harry couldn't tell.

″He'll live,″ Megan said shortly, not looking up from her charting.

″I'm sorry.″

″Are you? I've saved your life three times, Potter, and this is how you repay me?″

″I didn't know Ron was—″

″You sweet-talked me into leaving the room, all the while knowing you were going to set security wards that would prevent me from entering it even if he did look like he was 'going to die in the next sixty seconds,' which he nearly did!″

″Nah, you're a better mediwitch than that.″

Megan threw down her quill and shoved her chair back. ″That's not the point! Do you have any idea how I felt, knowing I could save his life if I could just get in here? You may have cost me my job, and you could have cost me my license!″

″You are not going to lose your job,″ Harry said firmly. ″I'll make sure of it.″

″_That's _my point,″ Megan said, pointing a finger at him. ″You cannot do whatever you want and just smooth it over later. Actions have consequences. I could cost you _your _job. Taking an ill patient out of St. Mungo's. Barring him from access to medical treatment. Assaulting him in front of witnesses. Attempted murder in Auror custody!″

″Megan. This man was a Death Eater. Do you know what that is?″ Megan was an experienced mediwitch, but she was still ten years younger than he, and Harry didn't know how much of the war she remembered.

Her eyes widened with fear, but her voice was steady. ″With You-Know-Who?″

″Yes. He has tried to kill me and Ron three times. He nearly did kill Hermione Weasley when she was only a fifth year. He murdered two of Ron's uncles during the First Wizarding War, and who knows how many other people. Ron and I have hunted him for our entire adult lives. I _could not_ take the chance of him escaping.″

She considered this, then crossed her arms. ″ 'I will apply measures for the benefit of the sick according to my ability and judgement. I will keep them from harm and injustice.' ″

″I know, but—″

″No buts,″ she said firmly. ″Once I'm convinced it's safe to do so, I'll re-administer the Veritaserum, but I am not leaving the room this time. Oh, don't look at me like that. Mediwitches know how to kill better than most people.″

Harry's alarm must have shown in his face, for Megan smiled the fake smile he associated with a particularly unpleasant potion.

″It's easy,″ she said cheerfully, closing her chart. ″All you have to do is one of the things they tell you in training to never, ever, _ever_ do. And I remember all of them.″

Harry gulped.

()()()()

Megan was as good as her word. She sent her co-workers back to St. Mungo's, administered the Veritaserum, and quietly monitored Dolohov from a chair in the corner.

″Ready?″ Harry asked Ron.

″Absolutely.″

″You can't assault him this time, Ron,″ Harry warned. ″If you can't control yourself, I'll kick you out.″

″I can handle it.″ Ron was much calmer since they had received word both Hermione and Ginny were secured at the safe house.

Harry was breathing easier himself. ″All right.″ He twisted the doorknob, and both men entered and sat down across from Dolohov. ″State your name for the record.″

″Antonin Dolohov.″

″Were you one of the Death Eaters, a follower of Lord Voldemort?″

″Yes.″

″Were you a supporter of Voldemort in both Wizarding Wars, in the 1970s and the 1990s?″

″Yes.″

″Did you murder Gideon and Fabian Prewett in 1980?″

″No. I was part of the group that killed them in '79.″

″Were you staying at Malfoy Manor while it was abandoned in September 1999?″

″Yes.″

″Did you attack me and Ron Weasley at that time?″

″Attacked you, nearly killed you, and escaped,″ Dolohov sneered.

″Where have you been hiding since?″

″Here, in England.″

″Pardon me?″ Harry was so startled he repeated the question. ″You've been in hiding here, in England?″

″That's what I said. Right under your noses, and you never noticed.″

″Where in England?″ Ron demanded.

Dolohov visibly resisted the question, but the potion won out. ″Cornwall. Hertfordshire. Various places in London for a few years, then Liverpool. Yorkshire. Sherwood Forest. Exmoor.″

Harry felt another unpleasant chill down his spine. Ginny had played near many of those places. He exchanged a glance with Ron. They always assumed the lack of leads on Dolohov and Yaxley was because they had disappeared abroad. The Auror Department had notified Ministries of Magic worldwide, but not every country was cooperative. ″Where's Yaxley?″

″Dead. At the Battle of Hogwarts.″

″Where. Is. Yaxley.″

″I told you. He was killed in the fighting at Hogwarts.″

Harry frowned. Was there something wrong with the Veritaserum? He raised an eyebrow at Megan, who shook her head.

″That's impossible,″ Harry said. ″We saw him at Malfoy Manor with you more than a year later.″

Dolohov crossed his arms. ″He took Polyjuice Potion to look like Yaxley. Perfect alibi, impersonating a dead man.″

Harry's stomach dropped. ″Who took Polyjuice Potion?″

″Michael Doran.″

Harry looked at Ron, but he looked just as confused as Harry felt. ″Who's Michael Doran?″

Dolohov smirked. ″He's the wizard responsible for most of your open cases.″

Under Harry's leadership, the Auror Department had developed and maintained an impressive ninety-two percent case-closure rate, but there were a handful of cold cases that still haunted the Aurors who had worked them. The kidnapping of a potions mistress at St. Mungo's School for Healers. The murder of an entire family, including three children under five, in a fishing village in Wales. The cursed silver tea set that was mailed in individual pieces to six Muggle-borns across Britain, each of whom was now a permanent resident at St. Mungo's. Not to mention the multiple disappearances that were eerily similar to the time of Voldemort's return.

″Okay, where's Doran?″ Harry asked.

″I don't know. I haven't seen him for three weeks.″

″Were you in hiding together?″

″On and off. We would split up, go in different directions whenever the Aurors were closing in. Haven't had to do that for a while, though.″ Dolohov grinned.

″Where did he say he was going?″

″He didn't.″

″How long have you been watching my house?″ Ron said abruptly.

″Nearly a month now. We need to complete the surveillance before the brats come home for Easter holiday.″

Ron's fist tightened on the table, but his voice remained calm. ″Why is that?″

His emotions unrestrained under the influence of truth serum, Dolohov's features were more than twisted; they were deranged. ″It's more fun when the kids are nearby. Scares the mothers more, you know? They cry and beg and do whatever you want.″

Harry felt sick, but he was proud of Ron, who was still seated with his wand safely holstered.

″And you targeted my family because. . . . ″

″Oh, we didn't target your family. The Mudblood is just a bonus.″

Both Ron and Harry flinched. No one had called Hermione that in years. Decades.

″Who did you target?″ Harry said.

″Ginny Weasley Potter,″ Dolohov said with satisfaction.

* * *

a/n: Surprise, it's not about Hermione! I forgot to say in my story world notes that Hermione is a lawyer with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Teddy Lupin is an Auror. The mediwitch's quote is from the Hippocratic Oath. I've also (rather reluctantly) branched into the world of magical tattoos and their use as communication devices. Don't ask me how they work; I'm making that up as I go along.


	3. Chapter 3

"Who did you target?" Harry asked.

″Ginny Weasley Potter,″ Dolohov said with satisfaction. ″Kill one witch and destroy multiple families.″

Before Harry could even think of reacting, he felt himself pushed back in his chair and he turned around. Megan had cast a Shield Charm.

Ron had Harry by the shoulders and was steering him towards the door. The spectators were still present, but they stepped back, wordlessly creating a path. Harry bit his cheek to keep himself together until they reached his office.

″It's my fault. I thought we were done with this. Twenty-four years, and I'm still putting the people I love in danger.″

″It is not your fault, and no one is in danger because of you.″

″Did you hear what he said? They're planning to kill Ginny because—just _because_! She's your sister!″

Ron gave Harry a shove, probably harder than intended, for Harry's head bounced off the wall. ″And you're my best mate! Stop feeling sorry for yourself, and let's figure out how to end this.″

Harry reached one hand up to gingerly probe the rapidly-rising knot on the back of his head, then sank down onto his desk, rubbing the matching headache between his eyes. _Ginny._ ″Godric, Ron, what am I going to do?″

″Well, we need to improve the security on your place, for starters.″

Harry looked up, surprised.

″You'll never talk Ginny into living in a safe house indefinitely. We're lucky she and Hermione haven't tried to break out already.″

Harry took a deep breath. That was true. Teddy's message had been brief but explicit. _Secured. I have her wand. Hurry._

″Okay,″ he said slowly. ″Okay. Ginny, Hermione, and the kids are all safe for now. Let's get Marshall and Johnson to finish the interrogation. We'll listen in, then work on the security at my house and yours. I'm going to tell everyone else to go home.″

″Good luck with that,″ Ron said.

()()()()

Harry's efforts to clear the squad room were as successful as Ron had predicted. No one wanted to leave, and while Harry appreciated their support, he needed an alert, well-rested staff to follow up on the leads that would be generated by the rest of Dolohov's interview. Harry approved Matthews's request to put both houses under observation immediately, assigned four trainees to review all the cold cases since the end of the war, accepted volunteers to relieve Ginny and Hermione's guards in the morning, and chivvied everyone else out the door with orders to eat a decent meal and get a good night's sleep since there would be little opportunity for either in the coming weeks. He sighed, scrubbing one hand through his messy black hair. He needed to update the Minister; Harry hadn't spoken with the Minister for Magic since they had successfully returned with Dolohov hours ago.

The first half of Harry's Floo-call to the Minister's home consisted of Percy berating him for not sharing the information about the threat to his sister immediately, followed by demands for information on the measures being taken to ensure her safety. Harry was rather impressed when his attempts to distract Percy with the prestige of being the Minister responsible for capturing the last living Death Eater failed miserably.

It was with an odd mixture of relief and trepidation that Harry entered interrogation three, the room directly behind Dolohov. Ron had reversed the observation charms so they could see out. Dolohov's interrogation was well underway.

″You've got to admit, it's brilliant,″ Ron finally said.

Harry was startled away from staring mindlessly into interrogation four. Dolohov wasn't even in the room anymore. The Aurors had left to take him to Azkaban, but Harry and Ron had been shocked into horrified silence by the wizard's confession.

″Brilliant? _Brilliant!_ It's a plot to murder your sister!″

″No, it's a plot to cripple the Ministry,″ Ron corrected. ″Think about it.″

″I've been trying not to.″

″Dolohov said, 'Kill one witch and destroy multiple families' and he's right. You're Head of the Aurors, I'm Head of the Academy, Percy's Minister for Magic, Bill's Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Hermione is the best lawyer in the Wizengamot. By killing Ginny specifically, they cripple the investigation, guarantee their safety abroad, and crush the five most powerful people who could apprehend and convict them. It's brilliant.″

″Would you stop saying that!″

″We need to look at Hermione's caseload.″

″What? Why?″ Harry forced his brain away from the terror of the threat on Ginny and onto the larger problem. ″You think one of her cases is related?″

″I'll wager next year's Cannons' tickets she has a trial scheduled that involves one of Doran's crew, and he's scared the bloke's going to turn on him. Doran has got away with Merlin knows what for twenty years, and he's not going to want our attention focused on him now. It's a good offer—the Cannons are third in the league.″

Betting on a case was so ordinary, so familiar, and the routine was comforting.

Harry stuck out his hand, and the best friends shook. ″No matter what, we make certain she comes through this.″ That was familiar too, but hardly comforting.

Ron looked him square in the eye. ″Whatever it takes.″

()()()()

_House with the Round Green Roof_

_Laig, Scotland_

Ginny Weasley Potter stopped her pacing when every Auror in the room (all fourteen of them—she had been trying not to think about what atrocity required _fourteen Aurors_to defend against it) stopped simultaneously.

Hermione tossed aside the four-year-old copy of _Transfiguration Today _and stood up_._ ″What is it?″

″Lupin's coming back,″ Clarke said, motioning Ginny and Hermione down the hall and taking a defensive stance in front of the door. He dropped the wards, Teddy entered, and Ginny and Hermione rushed him as Clarke immediately restored the flat's security.

″Have you seen Harry? Is he okay? What did he say?″

″Yes, yes, and to bring you home. Ron too,″ he added, looking at Hermione.

Both witches brightened. The danger must have passed if Harry and Ron were allowing them to leave the safe house.

Teddy turned to Clarke. ″I'm going to Apparate Ginny onto the front steps. You're to Apparate Hermione just inside the property line two minutes later. Two minutes after that, he wants six of you to try to Apparate inside the house, and the rest are to attempt to enter the house by Floo powder.″

There was a small groan from the group; Harry was testing the security wards. Trying to Apparate into a location protected by anti-Apparition charms was painful and disorientating; trying to Floo into a location disconnected from the Floo network got you spun through to the next open fireplace, which might—or might not—be friendly.

Teddy held out his hand. ″Let's go, Ginny.″

″If I can go home, I can have my wand.″

Teddy shook his head. ″You're to Side-Along Apparate. Potter's orders.″

Well, he might be obliged to follow Harry's orders, but she wasn't. ″I've been Apparating nearly as long as you've been alive, and I certainly know where my own front steps are. Give me my wand.″

Teddy dropped his hand and stepped close to her. ″Harry is trusting me, personally, with your safety. Please?″

Ginny sighed. There were more than enough men in her life for her to understand the significance of that. She laid her hand on her godson's forearm and a moment later felt the suffocating pressure.

Ginny clamped her hands over her ears as a screeching wail pierced the chill of the night. Harry materialized out of the dark and silenced the alarm with a wave of his wand. She reached for him immediately. He gave her a brief hug and a perfunctory kiss on top of her head.

″Get inside the house. I'm going to need your help to complete some of the charms, and I promise, I'll explain everything, but right now I need you out of the way. Hermione too, when she gets here.″ Harry checked his watch.

Ginny didn't hide her disappointment, but it was too dark, and Harry was too distracted, to notice. Familiar with his _modus operandi _in such situations, she complied without argument, expecting to at least have the peace and quiet of her own home. When she entered her kitchen to find a contingent of ten Aurors waiting for her, Ginny did what any British witch would do.

She put the kettle on.


	4. Chapter 4

__A/N: I jumped the gun a bit and started posting this section of the story before I had truly finished it. I was going to add one more chapter after this, then I decided to end the prologue with this chapter, and now I'm thinking about a fifth chapter again. Please let me know your thoughts, especially if you'd like to see a sort of wrap-up/expository scene between Harry and Ginny where she gets her questions answered (at least as much as Harry knows). I haven't started a new chapter yet, so if the general consensus is for it, and my muse cooperates, it will take me at least a couple of weeks to get it written and through beta. I don't want to tell so much of the plot that there is no suspense for the next section, but I don't want readers to feel cheated, either. Thanks for reading!

* * *

_The Potter Residence_

Ginny reached into her stash for a ball of yarn and began twisting it onto the needle with jerky, uneven movements. The backwards loop was her least-favorite cast-on because of its sloppy edge, but it was fast and easy, and she wasn't making anything, anyway. She just needed something to occupy her hands, something to make her look calm and productive, something to think about besides the kind of evil that required _fourteen Aurors_ to defend against it.

Hermione and Clarke's appearance had set off another alarm, just as loud and high-pitched as the first but with a different, slower rhythm. When he and Hermione had arrived, Clarke had adjusted assignments so the number of Aurors guarding Ginny and Hermione inside the house returned to its original fourteen. None of the Aurors who tried to Apparate or Floo into the house were successful, and over the last two hours, all of them found their way back and were helping Harry and Ron outside. The dark shadows of scarlet-robed Aurors were accompanied by the more easily visible salmon-colored trainees' robes, and from what Ginny could count, it looked like nearly the entire Academy was here, including the first years. Snatches of overheard conversation revealed there was another collection of Aurors tightening security at Ron and Hermione's, and it sounded like Percy's detail was beefed up as well. And someone had to have escorted Dolohov to Azkaban.

Was there _anyone_ not on duty?

She had enough stitches now and turned her needle to begin the first row. That was all Hermione (currently reorganizing the sitting room bookshelves according to something called a dewy decibel system) knew, that they had captured Dolohov. Ginny gave up questioning the Aurors; every one of them, including Teddy, had very politely referred her to her husband. She refused to admit she was hiding—after all, anyone who walked in the front door or came through the kitchen would see her immediately—but she was glad to escape their scrutiny. When the Aurors assigned to cover the national Quidditch team tryouts had unceremoniously pulled her from the end-of-day press conference without apology or explanation, Ginny had not reacted well, and when they were joined by four more who also refused to give her any information other than the unwelcome news that she was to be detained in a safe house, she had—well, she had thrown a fit that would do Luna's not-quite-two-year-old twins proud.

It was humiliating. She was an experienced Auror's wife; the Head Auror's wife. She had learned how to handle Harry (and Ron) in danger when she was still a child. She had dealt with multiple emergencies during Harry's career (and Ron's), not to mention the catastrophes that accompanied raising three magical children. Ginny Potter did not throw fits, or have hysterics, or panic unnecessarily. She was not one of those wives who could not be told the truth, and Harry (and Ron) knew it.

Which was what frightened her. Harry had never sent Aurors to retrieve her—never—and not once in the twenty-four years he had been doing this job (longer than they had been married!) had he mentioned putting her in a safe house. The needle slid between the stitches, and Ginny realized her hands were shaking. She took a deep breath. She was _not_ going to panic; she was _not_ going to be irrational and uncooperative. Harry and Ron were fine; she could see them through the window. Percy was okay too; she had heard Williamson describing the difficulty he'd had in preventing Percy from coming to see her in person. All the children were safe; Clarke had been in the office when Neville Floo-called.

Ginny finished another row and pulled more yarn from the center of the ball. She would be a good Auror wife if it killed her. She would remain calm, and stay out of the way, and do as she was told to make Harry's job easier. She would be gracious and hospitable (she forgot the refilling charm; she should put the kettle on again), and the gossip at this year's Christmas Gala would be how reliable she was in a crisis.

She had just realized she had three extra stitches when Williamson called her name. ″Mrs. Potter? Mr. Potter wants you outside. You too, Mrs. Weasley.″

()()()()

Harry wanted them for blood wards. Blood wards could be set to allow any blood relative of a specific person to pass (they'd had something similar on Auntie Muriel's house during the war, in addition to the Fidelius Charm), or they could be specific to the full blood panel, which meant only that individual could pass. Harry chose the latter. He was setting security so tight that only the four of them—he, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione—would not activate the outer alarm at the property line. Each of them had an identifier that rang when they crossed the inner boundary twenty yards from the house, but it allowed them to do so without notifying the Auror Department. That meant her entire family—her parents, her brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces and nephews, would have to take special measures to even approach the house, much less enter it. The Aurors would trip the alarm. Teddy would trip the alarm. The bloody Minister for Magic would trip the alarm. Her _children _would trip the alarm. What had Dolohov said that had Harry and Ron so shaken?

Ginny cooperated, slicing her finger at the appropriate point in the spell and then sucking on it briefly to stop the bleeding. She didn't dare look at Hermione. Ginny could not stand seeing her own fear reflected back in Hermione's eyes, not with so many Aurors and trainees still milling about. It could not be more obvious from the _fourteen Aurors'_ kid-glove treatment of Ginny that word about her fit at the stadium had spread, and she would not feed the gossip.

Harry signaled Teddy and Clarke, and Ginny and Hermione were ushered back inside the house. With the unspoken agreement of a long-standing friendship, each witch returned to her previous activity without discussion.

It felt like hours later when Ginny heard the _brring _that indicated Harry had crossed the inner boundary. It was the same sound made whenever a Chaser scored in a Quidditch match, and Ginny had chosen it because it instinctively gave her a happy, triumphant, confident feeling. Harry opened the front door. He was alone, and Ginny threw herself into his arms. He grunted with the force of her impact, lifting her off the floor and burying his face in her hair. The fear Ginny had been wrestling rushed out from her stomach to flood her whole body. Harry was never this demonstrative in front of his staff, never, and there were still _fourteen Aurors_ scattered between her sitting room and kitchen.

_What the bloody hell was so damn wrong?_

He set her down and braced both arms against the back of the sofa, head drooping with fatigue. He needed a haircut; she couldn't see his face. The Aurors had disappeared. Even Hermione had left the room.

″Hermione said you caught Dolohov.″

″Yes.″

″Who is he working with?″

″We don't know.″

Ginny frowned. ″What do you mean?″

″I mean there are five wizards who are actively trying to kill you, and because they are cleverer than most, I only have a name and description for one of them.″ He turned away again, putting his right hand in his pocket, and Ginny knew he was fingering his wand. ″I don't have time for this,″ he said wearily.

She swallowed her irritation and curiosity. The last thing she wanted to do was make Harry's job even more difficult. He moved suddenly, and Ginny's breath was squeezed out of her.

″I can't lose you, Gin, I just—I just can't. I'm sorry, I know you hate not knowing what's going on, but I will do _anything _to keep you safe, even if it makes you pissed at me.″

″I'm fine, Harry,″ Ginny said, returning the hug tightly. ″I'm right here and I understand.″

He buried his face in her hair again, then began kissing her. Her neck, her shoulder, her ear, her cheek. . . .

″Are you going to Ron and Hermione's?″ She turned her head to kiss his jaw, the fear transforming into a desperate need to touch, to connect, to reassure.

″Mm-hmm.″ Harry's answer was muffled against her mouth, and Ginny opened it willingly. ″Sorry 'bout th' press conf'rence.″

″Uhhh?″ His hands were in her hair now, massaging her scalp in miniature circles.

Harry kissed her again, shifting their positions so she was leaning back against the wall. ″Should've sent mess'ge, not scared you—″

Ginny widened her stance, and they both groaned as his body settled against hers. ″ 's 'kay. I needed—needed—″ She needed _him._

He stopped but didn't pull away from her, breathing hard.

″What's the matter?″ When he didn't answer, she walked her fingers up his chest. ″We've made love with Teddy down the hall before. . . .″

His laughter was warm against her neck. ″I really don't have time for this,″ he said again.

″Harry!″

″I'm sorry.″ He kissed her quickly, then lingered. ″Godric, am I sorry.″

Ginny looped her arms behind his neck and smiled up at him. She would be the good Auror wife if it killed her—and it just might. Even bad news was better than no news. ″Well, you missed dinner. Can you make breakfast?″

He brightened. ″Stakeout sex? We haven't had stakeout sex since—″

″Since you stopped doing stakeouts.″

″Very funny.″

In the early years of their careers, with him working odd hours and her traveling all over Britain with the Harpies, they'd had to be creative to find time alone together. Ginny had learned not to waste sleep waiting up for Harry, and Harry had learned it was worth it to arrive home before breakfast.

″I'll be home for breakfast, and I'll explain everything, I promise. Tell Hermione we'll send someone for her when it's safe.″

Ginny returned to the kitchen to find Hermione closing the back door behind Ron. Hermione Banished the teacups to the sink as Ginny pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky, and both women gave up the charade. Twenty years of marriage to Aurors had taught them when to worry, and this was serious.

Hermione drew her wand and muttered a few incantations—the protective charms she, Harry, and Ron had used when hiding from Voldemort.

Ginny broke out in unpleasant chills.

″The Aurors will break them in a few minutes. What did Harry say?″

″He said there's five others besides Dolohov, but they only have a name and description for one of them. He also said he would send someone when it was safe for you to go home.″

″Tonight?″

″I think so. Teddy told me, at Exmoor, that Dolohov made a direct threat against you.″

″Probably. They sent six Aurors to fetch me from my office.″

Ginny gaped. ″But your office is just down the hall! I thought you picked up the extra security when you left.″

Hermione shook her head, pushing loose curls out of her face.

″Harry's really scared,″ Ginny whispered. ″You were with him—during the hunt—have you—have you ever—″

Hermione's brown eyes were warm with sympathy. ″When we overheard the goblins telling Dean and Mr. Tonks about you, Neville, and Luna trying to steal the sword. When you got knocked off your broom and fell sixty-four feet at that playoff match. When you passed out at Shell Cottage, and we found out you were pregnant with Lily.″ She paused. ″But nothing quite like this, no.″

Ginny swallowed against the painful lump in her throat. It hadn't been bad, secure in Harry's embrace, but now the reality of being hunted—again—was sinking in.

″It can't be as bad as last time,″ Hermione said, white knuckles clenched around her shot glass. ″Nothing can be as bad as _that._″

″We didn't have kids the last time,″ Ginny said bleakly.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: The masses have spoken! Here is the wrap-up you requested (see, it pays to review!). This is the conclusion of the prologue to a two- or three- part series (part two, "Auror Take Two," is up). Thanks to **vancabreuniter **for catching the errors I missed; you can _always_ use an extra pair of eyes. Random things I worry about: Harry and Ginny refer to their time at Hogwarts from their own perspectives; remember that Ginny is a year younger. For my lovely British readers, if I've misspelled ″bollocksed″ (it looks horribly wrong to my American eyes), or used it incorrectly, blame it on Wikipedia and Urban Dictionary. And for pity's sake, correct me. Special thanks to the United States Marine Corps for, among other things, the paraphrase of their unofficial slogan (″there's no such thing as an ex-Marine″).

Also, I extended my Missing Moments challenge to run indefinitely. Check it out here: forum. fanfiction topic/ 44309/ 55920858/ 1/

* * *

Harry opened their bedroom door to find Ginny on her side and facing him with her head propped in her hand. ″I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?″

″I heard your alarm.″

″Oh. Right.″ That would be rather inconvenient, as Harry anticipated a lot of late nights in his immediate future, but it couldn't be helped. He sat on the bed beside her, still in full Auror robes.

″You're overdressed,″ Ginny said.

″I have to go back to work.″

Ginny looked pointedly from the bedside clock, to the blue-gray light seeping around the curtains, back to Harry, and raised her brows.

Taking in the loose hair and faded Harpies t-shirt visible above the sheets, Harry let his speculation show on his face, but Ginny's gave nothing away. He stood, toed off his shoes, shrugged off his robes, and crawled under the covers. Ginny immediately wrapped her legs around his and he shuddered.

″Merlin, your feet are cold!″ But he didn't move away; her bare thigh was warm. He rubbed one hand down her back, ostensibly to comfort, but in reality feeling for knickers. There they were, a slight ridge in the small of her back. He repositioned her head more comfortably on his shoulder. Knickers but no trousers. He could work with that.

″What happened?″

Harry sighed, knowing he more than owed her an explanation first. It was a pattern Ginny had established early in their relationship—after Dolohov's last escape, actually—and it worked well for them.

″One of Matthews's informants spotted Dolohov in St. Mungo's this morning.″

She raised her head. ″That's it? He hides from all of wizardkind since the Final Battle, and then walks into hospital right under the Ministry's nose?″

Harry guided her head down to his shoulder again and began playing with the ends of her hair. ″I've told you before, a lot of criminals are caught by sheer bad luck. Dolohov has a fondness for belladonna, but what he didn't know was he had the beginnings of scrofungulus.″

Ginny hissed through her teeth.

″Add in some alcohol, a shady pub, and a conscientious shopkeeper across the street, and what you get is an unconscious Death Eater admitted to St. Mungo's and separated from his Polyjuice Potion.″

″Did you arrest him at hospital?″

Harry explained about the capture, the initial interview, the threat to Hermione, and—because she would hear about it anyway—Ron's attack on Dolohov.

″Ron always overreacts when it comes to Hermione. Is that when you sent the Aurors after us?″

Harry nodded, pulling Ginny closer as he remembered that first overwhelming wave of realization chased by terror. ″Yes. Payne and Clarke went after you and Hermione, and I Floo-called Neville.″

Ginny chuckled. ″He's always suspected James had the Marauder's Map. I guess now he knows for certain?″

″I guess so,″ Harry said dryly. ″I told him if he found James, James could find everyone else.″

″Hermione said you sent six Aurors after her.″

″It was a volunteer squad, actually.″ Although his orders to ″shut down the whole Ministry if you have to″ might have contributed to its size. ″Ron was stunned on the floor, and I was on the Floo-call.″

Ginny was silent, but Harry could feel her question and waited.

″Did he threaten the kids?″

″No.″

″Not any of them?″

″None.″ And then, because he had been married long enough to know the benefits of full disclosure, Harry said, ″He did say they wanted the kids home when they attacked, but that was to better manipulate you and Hermione.″

Ginny muttered under her breath, and Harry thought it for the best that he couldn't understand her.

″Speaking of you and Hermione, what took them so long to find you at Exmoor?″

Ginny ducked her head so low that instead of looking at the top of it, he was looking at the back.

″Gin?″ Harry shifted, trying to see her face, but she buried it under his arm. ″What happened?″

She shook her head, sending tendrils of fiery silk slithering across his chest and arm.

″I'll tell if you will,″ he coaxed.

Ginny stopped squirming but didn't raise her face, and her answer was completely unintelligible. Harry gathered her hair at the nape of her neck and wedged the other hand under her chin. She was bright red with embarrassment, the most he had seen in a long, long time.

″Teddy petrified me.″

″_What_!″ Harry sat up so abruptly that Ginny bounced. He and his godson were going to have a discussion about necessary force.

″They wouldn't tell me where you were, or even if you were okay,″ she said defensively, sitting up beside him. ″I got a note from Louise that you were working through the night, and then Terry and Jimmy are moving in. They dragged me out of the press conference, Harry! In front of a dozen reporters! Tomorrow's Quidditch section is not going to be about Cameron's injury or Pender's keeping, it's—″

Harry groaned. ″Please tell me you were professional and cooperative.″

Her blush deepened. ″They wouldn't tell me where you were, or if you and Ron were okay,″ she repeated, wrapping her arms around herself. ″You've never sent Aurors after me before, and when the rest of them showed up, I thought—″ She took a deep breath. ″I started thinking they were lying to me, that you were hurt, you _and_ Ron, because one of you always comes for me if the other is hurt, and—″ She swallowed. ″They wouldn't tell me anything, and I thought it was both of you, both of you injured too badly to travel, so badly the Aurors were afraid to tell me, and—″

Harry gathered her into his arms, genuinely rubbing her back for comfort this time. ″I'm sorry, sweetheart.″

″Somebody let slip about the safe house, and then I knew they weren't taking me to see you, and—I just panicked. I was fighting them so hard that Teddy petrified me.″

Harry shook his head, torn between despair and amusement. ″Only you would be outnumbered eight-to-one and still making them work for it.″

″Yes, well, size is no indication of power.″

″Don't I know it.″ He laid down with her on his chest again and tucked the covers around them. ″What did Teddy tell you?″

″He assured me you and Ron were both fine and said you had a suspect in custody who had made a direct threat on Hermione.″

Harry closed his eyes. ″Yeah.″

″It reminded you of the Department of Mysteries in fourth year, didn't it?″

He nodded and felt her arm tighten around his waist.

″She'll be okay,″ Ginny said. ″Hermione's the toughest bookworm I know.″

That was Ginny, taking everything in stride. ″I just hate that she has to be again. That you both have to go through this again.″

″It's not your fault, Harry.″

″If I hadn't bollocksed up and let them escape twenty years ago, we wouldn't be here,″ he said bitterly.

″But we are, and we'll deal with it just like we deal with everything else. Together,″ Ginny said firmly.

Harry didn't reply, and Ginny pushed herself up to look at him. ″I'm not that fifteen-year-old girl anymore, Harry. You are not leaving me behind this time.″

Curtained between the crimson falls of her hair, he reached up to cup her cheek. ″I meant what I said last night. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it makes you angry.″

Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened, but after a few moments, she laid her head on his shoulder again and said, ″Tell me about this wizard you have a name and a description for.″

″Michael Doran. He took Polyjuice Potion to look like Yaxley that day at Malfoy Manor. Yaxley really was killed in the fighting at Hogwarts.″

″You've been chasing the wrong wizard all this time?″

″Thanks, Gin.″

″No, I just meant— I'm sorry. Tell me about him.″

″Dolohov and Doran met overseas immediately after the war. Dolohov was able to arrange for him to impersonate Yaxley because Dolohov had access to Yaxley's family estate. It escaped the crackdown when the Ministry froze the Death Eaters' assets because it was in his maternal grandmother's maiden name. The other Death Eaters knew he wasn't Yaxley, of course, but they didn't know who he was. That's why we never had any hint of him in our interrogations. They were trying to pull together a plan to attack key positions in the Ministry while it was still vulnerable, and the meeting at Malfoy Manor was their first face-to-face. Dolohov and Doran have been hiding together off and on ever since. Dolohov seems to have kept a pretty low profile, but according to him, Doran is responsible for most of our open cases. That will be our second big focus, connecting him to those crimes.″

″What's your first big focus?″

There was no other way to say it. ″Keeping you alive until we catch the bastard.″

Ginny was quiet for a few moments, motionless except for her thumb rubbing back and forth above the waistband of his pants. ″I'm the primary target?″

″Actually, the Ministry is the primary target. Ron thinks they planned to attack you because of the effect it would have on the people who love you. He thinks one of Hermione's open cases involves someone on Doran's crew. We just have to figure out who it is.″

Ginny's hand was drifting randomly across his torso. Her leg was entwined with his again, but her feet weren't cold anymore. In fact, everywhere their bodies touched burned.

″How are you going to do that?″

Harry slid a hand up the back of her thigh, dragging her shirt hem with it. ″With attention to detail and persistence. There will be some tell in his background or behavior.″

Ginny hummed, wiggling her bum into his hand. ″Guess you had better get busy, then.″

Harry laughed, rolling her underneath him. He loved this witch. He really, really did.

()()()()

_Auror Headquarters_

″The Minister wants you in his office immediately,″ Louise said.

Harry stopped, one hand still outstretched towards his private office door. ″Can I set my stuff down first?″

″I don't recommend it.″

Harry compromised, handing his traveling cloak to Louise. ″I want Ginny's team waiting in my office when I get back.″

″Yes, sir.″

He retraced his steps to the lift and pressed the button for level one. This was either about Ginny's security or Ron's attack on Dolohov, and since Percy generally left Auror business up to the Aurors, it must be about Ron. Harry wished he had looked at the _Prophet_ this morning.

″Good morning, Mr. Potter. He's expecting you.″

Harry entered the Minister's office to find Ron and Percy sitting in stony silence.

″Explain,″ Percy said tersely, stabbing a finger at the newspaper lying on his desk.

Harry glanced at it and was startled to see not Dolohov's mug shot, but an actual photograph of him, Ron, and Harry in interrogation four. ″Where did they get this?″

″You tell me,″ Percy said. ″It was obviously taken by someone in your department.″

Could Megan have—no, she didn't have a camera, and she would have been trying to enter the room, not document the injury. Harry picked up the paper. It could be anyone; almost everyone, Aurors and support staff alike, had watched the initial interrogation. Who had it out for Ron?

″I don't know who took it, but we'll find out.″ Find him and fire him.

″The two of you aren't doing anything. Ron's suspended.″

So that's what the brothers argued about. ″That's not your call, Minister,″ Harry said coolly.

Percy stood up, but after a lifetime looking up at Ron, Harry was not intimidated. ″He assaulted a suspect!″

″He threatened my wife!″ Ron was on his feet now too.

″He was in custody, Ron. There's no way he could have hurt her.″

″I've told you. He's not working alone,″ Ron growled. ″They were watching our house!″

″I cannot allow a senior Ministry official to commit a crime, _in front of witnesses_, without punishment, even if you are my brother! It reeks of favoritism. It _is_ favoritism. Everyone will say—″

″That's all you ever care about, isn't it, Percy? This is just like—″

″Enough,″ Harry said sharply. ″No one thinks that Ron's actions should be ignored, but I can't suspend him, not now. I need him. I need him to help keep Ginny safe.″

Percy glared at Harry for a moment, then sat down. ″That's not fair.″

Harry shrugged. ″I don't much care when it comes to my family.″

The barb was hidden but still sharp, and Percy flinched.

″Dolohov nearly killed Hermione in fifth year,″ Harry said, taking a seat for the first time. ″Neville and I carried her unconscious body through the Department of Mysteries. Madame Pomfrey said if Hermione hadn't previously Silenced Dolohov while they were dueling, the curse would have killed her. She still has the scar.″ He paused. ″Then he made a comment about what Hermione was wearing and what room she was in. It was a credible threat to her life, Percy. Ron's reaction, while inappropriate, is completely understandable.″

Percy pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose. ″Oh, do sit down, Ron. I'm just trying to protect you.″

Ron's tall frame, halfway folded into a chair, straightened up again. ″Protect me? I don't need—″

Percy gave Ron one of the looks Harry had often seen from the three oldest Weasley brothers and Ron sat down. ″We have to do something. Today.″

Harry and Percy looked at Ron expectantly. He scowled. ″I am not issuing an apology. I'd do it again, if I had the chance.″

″For Merlin's sake, don't say that to anyone else,″ Percy said irritably.

″I can—officially at least—keep Ron off the Dolohov/Doran case,″ Harry offered. ″I'll put him in charge of Ginny's security.″

″I'd prefer the Death Eater,″ Ron muttered.

″I don't blame you,″ Percy said. ″Did you see the picture of her?″

″Yeah.″ A slow smile broke over Ron's face. ″There's no such thing as an ex-Harpy.″

Percy grinned back at him, and the tension between the brothers broke.

″All right then,″ Percy said. ″Ron's off the case for now, and we'll suspend him later.″

″Hey!″

″We can't avoid it, Ron. I'll make a statement condemning your actions, and Percy can initiate an investigation by the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. There are no Weasleys in that department, so we should be okay. Once things settle down, probably by the end of the week, I'll suspend you. Without pay,″ Harry added, catching Percy's expression.

″For how long?″

″For the duration of your investigation,″ Percy said. ″I'm sorry, Ron. But I think if Harry takes action and there's no hint of a cover-up, we can use our influence to avoid prison time.″

″Ron is not going to Azkaban,″ Harry said firmly.

″Of course not,″ Percy said. ″The public wouldn't tolerate it.″

Harry and Ron exchanged exasperated glances.

″What is the status on Ginny's security?″

()()()()

_The Potter Residence_

Ginny entered her kitchen trying to decide if she was going to fix herself a late breakfast or surrender to the clock and have lunch. She fell asleep after they made love, and while it was hardly a night's worth, it was the latest she had slept in ages. She also hadn't told her boss she wouldn't be in today, but the _Prophet_ would be its own explanation. She knew without asking that Harry wasn't allowing her back in Exmoor. She supposed she could go to St. Mungo's, do a follow-up piece on Cameron's injury. Or maybe she would check out the new equipment at Quality Quidditch Supplies. She frowned. No, Harry would want her in Diagon Alley even less; there was no security there. Ginny sighed. They really should have talked more this morning. . . .

There was a note at her place. _House arrest. Sorry. See you for dinner if you make it seven. Love, H._

Well, that answered one question. She would just have lunch at the Ministry.

Ginny walked into Auror Headquarters, thanking the trainee who held the door for her and ignoring the distinct increase in chatter that accompanied her entrance to the squad room. She nodded at the Aurors she knew and entered Harry's outer office without knocking.

″I'll go to lunch now,″ Louise said hastily.

Ginny knocked on the inner door and opened it. Harry and Ron were deep in conversation, heads bent together over some kind of schematic.

″What the hell are you doing here?″

″We need to talk,″ she said.

″What I mean is, how did you get here?″ Harry demanded.

″I changed the wards on the Floo.″

″Ginny—″

″I am not staying inside the house until you catch Doran. I have a job, and a family, and a life, and—″

″Who said anything about staying inside the house?″ Ron asked.

″He did.″ Ginny pointed at her husband. ″He said I was on house arrest.″

″Well, you are,″ Ron said reasonably. ″But only until we can establish security at the _Prophet_, which is what we're working on now. No field assignments for a while, though.″

Ginny realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it. ″Oh. Sorry.″

Ron frowned at Harry. ″I thought you went home this morning to work this out with Ginny.″

″We were busy,″ Harry said, mouth twitching. Ginny bit her lip and didn't look at him.

″Stop right there. Bloody hell, the two of you are worse than a couple of kids.″ Ron left the office, still muttering about rabbits and responsibility.

″Sit down, Gin.″

″I know we need to make some changes, Harry, but I'm not going to live my life looking over my shoulder.″

Harry's face closed into what Ginny thought of as Big Bad Auror Mode. ″We _are _going to do this my way, and it is not up for negotiation. I increased security so I could pull the Aurors to just a single team at the edge of our place, and I've already got the go ahead from Pearson to make any necessary changes at the _Prophet_. I intend to make it possible for you to continue to work, but it will have to be from home or at the office, preferably at home. There's only a certain amount of security I can put on a building when I can't control who goes in and out. Ron is right—no more field assignments until Doran and his men are in custody. That's assuming you cooperate, and don't go modifying the security wards to suit your whim. Otherwise, I _will_ give you a protective detail, and they _will_ follow you everywhere.″ He leaned forward, green eyes intent. ″Every. Where.″

Ginny would never admit it out loud, but Harry did a damn good bad Auror. She resisted the impulse to sit up straighter. If there was anything Harry was stubbornly fierce about, it was protecting his loved ones. As inconvenient as the security wards would be, a personal protective detail would drive her crazy.

″Okay.″

″I want your word that you will not modify the security wards in any way.″

Ginny scowled, feeling a new sympathy for the rare times Teddy complained about work. ″I promise.″

He studied her face for a moment, then nodded. ″Have a seat in interrogation two. Someone will come to escort you once the house has been cleared.″

Her confusion must have shown on her face, for he explained. ″You changed the wards on the Floo, Ginny. That makes the house open to invasion until they're reset, which means someone could be waiting for you at home right now. I'll send two teams to clear the house. If everything checks out, one of them will return and escort you home while the other ensures nothing changes in the meantime. Then they will reset the wards, and the four of them will have to exit the property to Apparate back, which will trip the alarms, which I will reset from here while praying that no one was clever enough to cross into the property as my Aurors are crossing out.″

Ginny suddenly felt very small. ″I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't realize.″

″I know you didn't,″ he said without heat. ″You have to trust me, Ginny—trust that Ron and I know what we're doing, and we're doing it in your best interests.″

″I will. May I visit Hermione instead of waiting in interrogation?″

He considered it, then nodded. ″Stay in her office.″

″I will. Dinner at seven?″

He smiled. ″I'll be there.″

()()()()

″You look stressed,″ Ginny observed, taking in the dark circles under Hermione's eyes, the lines around her mouth, and the falling-down bun.

Hermione sighed, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. ″I've been trying to convince the Wizengamot to actually investigate before they charge Ron.″

″For Dolohov?″

Hermione nodded towards the newspaper on the corner of her desk. Ginny hesitated, then sat down and picked up the paper.

″How the hell did they get this?″ The front page of _The Daily Prophet_ was a photograph of one of the Auror interrogation rooms. Ron reached across the table to choke Dolohov and Harry turned around, over and over, accompanied by the headline, ATTEMPTED MURDER IN AUROR CUSTODY!

″No idea. Harry is beyond livid. We could hear him shouting all the way over here.″

Ginny gaped at the photo, trying to process its implications. ″But—but—he threatened you! Surely there's some provision for defending your family.″

″They're going to say Dolohov didn't present a credible threat because he was already in custody.″

Ginny made a rude noise.

″I know, but—it's bad, Ginny. Practically the whole Auror department witnessed it, plus the mediwitch. Percy and Harry won't be able to step in without accusations of nepotism. So far, no one has been stupid enough to say that to me today.″

Ginny took in the firm set of Hermione's mouth and the gleam in her eye and was not surprised. ″Who was the mediwitch?″

″Megan MacDonald.″

Ginny frowned. ″She has a strong conscience, but I don't think she would talk to the _Prophet.″_

″No, but she's going to have to talk to the hit wizards who investigate. And the fact remains, Ron did assault him.″

″The fact remains, Ron was defending you,″ Ginny said, but realized too late that only made Hermione feel worse. ″What else is in here?″ she said, flipping through the pages for the Quidditch section. ″There were a dozen reporters who saw me get dragged out of— Oh, no.″

There she was, above the fold, wrestling with Terry Boot and Jimmy Peakes as they tried to force her out of the media room. She was putting up a good fight, if she did say so herself. Her brothers would be proud. Well, maybe not Percy. She glanced at the headline. Ginny Potter Resists Protective Custody. _You have no idea._

″Well, it could be worse,″ Ginny said, tossing the paper back on Hermione's desk. ″They could have got a picture of Teddy petrifying me.″

″I told Ron there was more to that story. What are you doing here, anyway?″

Ginny grimaced. ″I changed the wards on the Floo.″

″Ginny!″

″I know, I know, I've already been lectured by the Big Bad Auror. I'm waiting for them to clear the house and come back for me. Have you written to the kids?″

Hermione pushed a piece of parchment towards her. ″I've been trying all day, but I don't know what to say without scaring them.″

″Rose takes the _Prophet_, doesn't she?″

Hermione nodded. ″I've got to get something to her today. She'll be expecting an explanation, but—″ She shrugged helplessly.

″Let's write one letter from both of us. We'll just say Dolohov was a Death Eater without explaining the personal connection and gloss over the security changes. They may not even be in place by the time they come home. What is it?″

″Ron's worried.″

″Of course he is. So is Harry.″

″No, I mean about the case itself. He says there's nothing to go on, that the trail is almost cold already.″

Ginny ignored the hollow feeling in her chest. ″That's ridiculous. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours.″

″This is not an open-and-shut case, Ginny. They were chasing the wrong wizard for twenty years and didn't even know it. Dolohov and Doran hid themselves here in England without a whisper. The Aurors pulled my case files first thing this morning, but we have no idea who the other team members are or where Doran went. You need to prepare yourself. We're going to be living under tight security for a while. And I think the kids should stay at Hogwarts over Easter. Rose needs to revise for O.W.L.s, anyway.″

Ginny met her best friend's eyes, and a lifetime of shared experience passed between the two witches. Hermione was using the same excuse for her daughter that she had given to her parents in her own fifth year.

″Let's get this letter over with.″

Ginny and Hermione were arguing about whose name to put on the envelope (Hermione insisted Rose would be in the library when the letter was delivered, and it would be faster if they addressed it to her there, but Ginny claimed since most of the children were in Gryffindor, it should go to James in the Gryffindor Common Room) when Clarke and Payne knocked on the open door.

″Ready to go, Mrs. Potter?″ Clarke asked.

″Yes,″ Ginny said, snatching the letter and envelope before Hermione could protest. ″I just need to stop at the owl office.″

″Writing to the kids?″ Payne said. ″Don't worry, they're safe at Hogwarts.″

Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances. _We weren't._


End file.
